why does it seem that choices have to be so final? it seems to me that every choice i make has an eternal consequence: if i don't go grocery shopping today, i won't have milk for my cereal tomorrow; if i choose to live here, then i must live in said place for the rest of my life; if i have a routine, then i must stick to that routine because that's what grown-ups do--they stick to routines, they make choices, and they live with the results of those choices for the REST of their lives.
i've got the gypsy spirit moving again, and i feel restless because i'm planning on another big move. it's kind of hard to believe that i've been here, settled, for three years now already. with so many others around me settling down into the newness of life--marriage, jobs, kids--i feel left out at times because i have none of those things. in fact, i'm about to leave everything behind and chase a dream. and it's that choice that has me feeling like i'm leaving everything behind forever, and i may have lost my chance at those things.
i read things about people my age traveling around the world or writing books or going on roadtrips, and that appeals to me so much, but i know there's a choice to be made, which involves the big green: $$$. what's the tradeoff between being where i am and being content wherever i am, knowing i have to live with that choice?
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